


Chapter Sixty-Three: Legal Force

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [64]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation One, Transformers Generation Two
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 05:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4251414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the forty-two Autobots in Shuttle Bay Eleven are gathered by the gold drones, Smokescreen recognises that they're being arrested. </p><p>In less than a megacycle, they learn by whom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter Sixty-Three: Legal Force

Wrong place  
Wrong time  
Am I a victim or will I be a culprit?  
Too many pictures of abundance  
They seduce me  
Now I'm a culprit  
They caught me  
They sentence me to custody  
Sitting in a prisoncell  
Now I'm so alone  
Thinking about my offence  
Wishing I were home  
—["Legal Force"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPiN7geRjJ4) by Absurd Minds, from _Deception_  
  


Shuttle Bay Eleven  
_Lost Light_  
Now

"He was near meltdown," Trailcutter whispered, keeping close to Artemis. "Inferno knocked him out."

Artemis remained silent, focused on Sunstreaker's prone form as Bob, oblivious to the drones, huddled over his master, whimpering. She counted forty-one of her fellow crew-mates in the shuttle bay, lined up around the perimeter; their weapons had been confiscated and placed in the centre of the bay, where three of the drones were cataloguing each piece.

"Call me crazy," Smokescreen hissed, "but does it seem like they're processing us?" For added measure, he nodded across the shuttle bay, where two giants on either side of Hound held him upright as a third held up a datapad as though to scan the Autobot, before reciting _< <Seventeen-twenty-one.>>_ With that, the two goons forced Hound back into a kneeling position before moving on to Grapple. Unlike Hound, the caution-yellow mech was nervous, his fear radiating, gaze flitting to Hoist, then Trailcutter, back to Hoist, to Artemis, back to Trailcutter.

"Someone's never been arrested before," Artemis muttered, then, more pronounced, she mouthed to Grapple, "Relax." Back to Smokescreen, she added, "Yep, certainly looks it. Question is, by who? And what's our crime?"

"Quints, and when do they ever have a reason?" Cavalier groused.

Artemis shook her head. "They'd skip the arrest and go right to the sentencing and execution."

"Whoever the hell it is, looks like we're all being charged with the same thing," Trailcutter whispered, regarding his companion. "Art, you don't look too good."

"I've had worse," she harrumphed. "How're your hands?"

"I've burned them out before," he replied, just as much of a lie as her admission. His shoulders slumped. "They hurt like hell, I can't move my fingers, and my palms feel like they're gonna crack open at any click."

She dared leaning closer to him. "Dizzy from energon loss, now that the boosters wore off. Remind me to report to Brainstorm regarding the sledge hammer being bloody useless when possessing only one arm."

"Now, I wouldn't say 'useless'," he countered.

Hoist groaned. "Now is not the time for the two of you to be flirting!" he hissed. "And no, neither Grapple nor myself nor a majority of those in this room with the exception of you, Smokescreen, and possibly Jackpot have been arrested!"

"I've been arrested," Cavalier piped up.

"Same here," Trailcutter admitted.

"Being impounded and public intoxication don't count," Hoist bantered. "Oh, hell, here they come."

"Don't resist, don't give them a reason to kick you when you're down," Artemis warned. 

The processing drones pulled Hoist to his feet, and none too gently. Scanned him with the 'pad, _< <Seventeen-Twenty-One,>>_ and set him back down in the kneeling position before moving onto Smokescreen to repeat the process. Their routine was the same save for two more strings of numbers, added to the previous set.

Then they moved on to Cavalier. Her string was impressive: on top of the blanket Seventeen-Twenty-One, she also racked up four in the twelves, three in the sixteens, seven in the nineteens, and one Twenty-Four-Ought-Nine, to which Artemis's head snapped up, one brow raised.

"Oh, no," Hoist grumbled.

"Twenty-four-ought-nine," Artemis whispered. "Might have narrowed down to 'who'. If I got the same number...."

The drones approached her, the one on her right pulling her arm; the left one looked at the hole in her shoulder, expressing — confusion? The scanning drone held up the datapad to her face; she granted him a malicious grin, but said nothing as it read off the screen. Two of the same sixteens as Cavalier, plus a nineteen, but what piqued her interest was the _< <Twenty-Four-Ought-Nine.>>_

"Thirty-Four-Double-Ought," she interrupted.

The scanner stared at her with sightless optics. 

"Thirty-Four-Double-Ought," she repeated. "And we wish to appoint a defender to our case."

Hoist groaned, ducking his head.

"Art, what are you doing?" Trailcutter hissed.

"Thirty-Four-Double-Ought," Artemis enunciated. 

The drone backed away, as did its brethren, still maintaining a perimeter around their prisoners, including the handlers.

Artemis flashed a triumphant smirk before pitching forward; both Trailcutter and Hoist jumped up to catch her.  
"Tyrest Accord," she grinned, allowing them to help her back to a sitting position. "Twenty-Four-Ought-Nine is bootlegging contraband over territorial lines. I'm figuring the sixteens is theft of government property."

"And Thirty-Four-Double-Ought?" Hoist demanded as Hound approached them in a crouch, suspicious of the pause in procession.

"Request to parley between their supervisor and our public defender, and in the interim allows us to treat our injured." She nodded to Hound. "Your show now, boss."

"Hoist, medical detail, tap three to help. There's triage kits in the EMT locker." Hound knelt before the black and chrome mech. "How the hell did you know to pull that?"

"Trust boss lady to read the sections pertaining to her bad habits first," Cavalier chortled. 

"Not much of a loophole," Artemis grumbled, "but it may buy us some time; if we name Magnus as our defender, they'll have to find him for us. If that doesn't work, tap Xaaron, Crosscut if we must."

"Xaaron?" Hound arched his brow.

"I hate to admit this," she dimmed her optics, "but we need someone with a grasp of politics to get out of this mess. Problem is, Tyrest Accord's tight, I'm not familiar enough with the legislation behind it, and unless we can pin some sort of Sirian regulation on them, I'm otherwise tapped for ideas."

"An ex-mercenary with a pre-law background," Smokescreen chuckled. "Now I've witnessed everything."

"What about the pirate ship?" Cavalier questioned. "That had Sirian script."

"If I could see it, I might be able to figure out who we were dealing with; likely Demon, if — " 

"Lockdown," Trailcutter interrupted.

"Only one to fit the current profile with what little information we have," Artemis groused. "If it was the _Death's Head_ , we'd need to find out if they're still in good standing with the Demons," Artemis countered. "And where we have yet to get a straight answer — fraggit." She bowed her head, pressing her hand to her face. "Oi, Hoist, got a pack of adhesive sutures in that kit? I can get them on, just...."

Cavalier jumped to her feet and darted to the green mech to take the package, along with a roll of transdermal tape, all while keeping her optics on their captors. "What are they waiting for?" she hissed.

"Likely their boss," Smokescreen whispered. "Awfully quiet, there, Hound; what's the plan?"

"We're dealing with someone who recognises Cybertronian court of law," Hound observed.

"Thing is, Tyrest Accord wasn't drawn up until after Luna One supposedly disappeared," Artemis pointed out.  
"But we weren't picking anything up," Cavalier pointed out, deftly applying the sutures to her roommate's wounds. "Oh. Wait. Jamming. Old tech. Duh. Of course."

"You said something about the moon being dead," Artemis observed, her optics darting to Trailcutter. "What did you mean by that?"

"Was I half-asleep and energy-deficient?"

"I did warn you he tends on nonsensical out of recharge," Hoist reminded, kneeling next to Hound. "Thirteen with dismembered limbs, eight of those limited in mobility, two unconscious, and multiple superficial wounds that require minimal repair." He lowered his voice as to minimise being overheard by their captors. "Should we send a relay to the bridge?"

"Too risky," Hound shook his head. "If Sunstreaker is right...."

"I don't think they're reading Bob," Cavalier whispered, tearing pieces of the transdermal tape to apply over her roommate's sutures. Upon hearing his name, the Insecticon looked up, chirruped, then resumed nudging Sunstreaker's arm with a whine.  
"Or they don't seem him as a threat," Artemis muttered. "Likely incapable of committing whatever seventeen-twenty-one is."

"We don't know if he can understand instruction," Hoist pointed out.

"Or if he does, if he'll listen to anyone other than Sunstreaker," Hound added. 

"Don't look at me; I just bribed him with treats," Cavalier shrugged. "Greedy bug ate them all already."

"Can we rouse Sunstreaker?" Hound asked Hoist. 

The engineer and part-time medic shook his head. "I wouldn't risk exacerbating any further damage; better keep an optic on him. When he comes to, we need to monitor for any trauma, physical or..." Hoist glanced at the prone warrior, "...otherwise."

"What else was I supposed to do?" Inferno snarled. "He was losing his grip and we didn't have time for a fraggin' therapy session!"

"Don't," Artemis stressed, "start."

"Both of you, stand down," Hound ordered. "Without contact with the bridge, we're on our own here. Artemis, anything else to buy us time?"

She shook her head, deliberate and slow. "Energon loss, stone sober, missing an arm, and irritable as all hell? Let me at 'em."

"So, before boss lady goes Phoenix-Wright-slash-Baiken on whoever leads these protocol droids on steroids," Cavalier interrupted, "let me try to Newt up to the bridge." She allowed a beat of silence. "Huh, and I was expecting an 'Objection!' from Smokey." 

"Sorry, I was distracted by being arrested," Smokescreen countered.

"Might breech the ceasefire," Hound shook his head. "Especially with your list of offences."

Cavalier's head snapped to attention, as Bob growled. "Dudes and bosses, heavies approaching."

"Likely their commander," Artemis grumbled, slumping forward. "Sorry, Hound, I'm tapped out."

"For good reason." Hound stood, squaring his shoulders. "I want all functioning warriors on guard; medics, continue administering aid. We're on the defencive during parley."

While Hound gave orders, Trailcutter placed a hand on Artemis's spinal strut, bringing his face close to hers. "It's gonna be all right," he assured, grinning. 

The corner of her mouth twitched, before she bowed her head, leaning heavily on his shoulder. "We surrendered. Arrested and processed. I don't think I can bluff my way out of this one. Not the same as getting dragged to the brig for public intoxication."

"They didn't process me yet," he reminded. 

"So you'll have another two cycles of freedom longer than the rest of us," she grumbled against his plating. 

The heavy treads grew closer, a gait echoing in the back of Trailcutter's memory.

"Squad attention!" a strong voice rang out; the drones snapped up, heads up and backs ramrod straight.

Smokescreen sucked a breath, then hissed, "Brat, Prime, heads down and don't say anything!" 

Cavalier, upon hearing their Wrecker call signs, looked up, then dropped her gaze. "Oh, frag," Cavalier whimpered, attention at the door. "Boss lady, don't look over your shoulder."

"Crew of the Autobot U1 hop-ship, registered _Lost Light_ out of Kimia and Iacon, you are hereby charged as by the Tyrest Accord, Section Seventeen, Subsection Twenty-One: harbouring a criminal suspect. Individuals with other charges will be processed accordingly."

"I know that voice," Trailcutter whispered, optics wide.

"Shh." Artemis went limp against him, optics offline. 

As per Section Thirty-Four preface, you have requested parley with your designated defender and the Tyrest representative." The towering red mech marched into the centre of the shuttle bay, stopping a metre from Hound, looming over the steadfast Autobot. "Request denied."

"Those on board our ship with criminal records were tried by municipal courts and served their sentences," Hound countered. "We reserve the right to know the criminal suspect in question."

"Request denied." The giant mech turned his back on Hound, scanning the Autobots within the bay as he walked the perimeter. 

"We have a right to know why our request is denied!" Hound continued. "We have a right to know why we are under arrest, and by whom!"

The red mech stopped in front of Smokescreen. "I do not need to answer to criminals and traitors."

"My loyalty is to the Matrix and the Prime it chooses, not to a pseudo-theocracy," Smokescreen muttered, keeping his optics down.

"Who is he?" Hoist whispered to Cavalier. She shook her head, a sharp, minuscule gesture, that did not go unnoticed.

"Star Saber, your faith was misled!" Smokescreen stood, drawing the large mech's attention. "You know the Matrix chose Rodimus! Chose — "

The backhanded swing struck the former Elite Guard square in the jaw, knocking Smokescreen into the bulkhead, the impact ringing loud within the confines of the bay.

"Smokescreen!" Cavalier shouted, too late as she stared up in horror at Star Saber, meeting optics. 

"You," the tall mech snarled.

"Frag." Gulping, Cavalier scampered behind Trailcutter. 

Star Saber took two strides towards the Minibot. "Where is the apostate?" he ordered.

"The Stratocracy fell!" Smokescreen coughed, attempting to stand. "They misled you! Misled us! Star Saber, listen to — hrk!"

Half the Autobots in the bay leapt to their feet as Star Saber drew his sword and skewered Smokescreen through his left shoulder, just missing his spark casing. "That," the former Elite Guard commander stressed, withdrawing his weapon, "was a warning. Again, Cavalier of Nyon Flats, where is the apostate?"

"The so-called 'apostate'," Smokescreen snarled against the pain, "has nothing to do with current events."

"Frag it," Artemis snarled, planting her hand on Trailcutter's knee and pushing up into standing. 

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Gashole still holding a grudge," she grumbled, then aloud, "Oi, Star Saber!" she barked. "Do you seriously still fear me? I'm weaponless, damaged, and irritably sober. You got me now, after five stels. Now what?"

"Art, what — "

"Is that it? You're holding this crew hostage for what? You want me to stand trial? For what? Doing what I was instructed to do by the same god you swore to follow?"

"What are you talking about?" Hoist demanded.

"Tell you over drinks," Artemis hissed, meeting Star Saber's optics, the same Matrix blue as hers. "Well, pretty? What will it be? You finally caught me. What's next?"

"Cav, can you give us a rundown?" Trailcutter whispered.

"Not my game to DM," Cavalier countered.

Star Saber stormed to the damaged black and chrome mech. "I am here on orders of Tyrest to bring a criminal suspect to stand trial on Section Nineteen, Subsection Eighty, Paragraph Four, and arrest those who have harboured him under Section Seventeen, Subsection Twenty-One. All other crimes will be brought up accordingly in due process." Turning his back on Artemis, he regarded the three drones who were doing the initial arrest procedure. "Continue on your assignment. We've located the Ninteen-Eighty-Four."

Artemis kept her footing until Star Saber and his drones left the bay, then dropped back to her knees. "Frag," she snarled, striking the floor with her fist.

"What did he mean, Art?" Trailcutter demanded. "What was he talking about?"

_Tell him. Tell him everything._

She met his optics, opened her mouth.

"Atheist Wrecker on a supposed holy quest to locate a missing Prime," she explained, her wry smirk pulling at the transdermal tape. "'Course our good little acolyte of Primus is going to be sore." Groaning, Artemis rested her head against his shoulder once more. "That...drained my reserves. I was running on fumes before...."

"S'okay, we'll figure this out sooner rather than later," Trailcutter reassured, pulling her closer, with two points of information to contemplate: one, the mech against his arm, offlining from exhaustion, was the Apostate from five stels ago; and two, in the confrontation, with Cavalier moving about and now on the other side of Artemis, the drones had lost their place and skipped him in processing. 

_Maybe that's a good thing...you're not the only one hiding from your past._

**NEXT CHAPTER:** Emptiness Within


End file.
